Resident Evil: The Time Before
by jman242
Summary: Read it and enjoy, The opening to chronic fuse is a little of a turn off but that is the only bad part. A Lone man, Chronic Fuse, and The Time before are all included
1. A Lone Man

A LONE MAN

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May 11, 1998

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Something is happening, but no one knows what. Everyone seems to be sapped of all energy. My studies of the newest B.O.W, the chimeras, has been put on hold, all of my collogues seem to be coming down with a summer cold or some other kind of bug. It should be over in a few days…

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May 11, 1998 (night)

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Something has happened in the Residence. Someone, I guess, went crazy and shattered the glass of the aquarium, releasing the specimens we call Neptune. It's such a ness. Thankfully Lord Ozwell Spencer has taken almost every precaution to keep us, the scientists, safe. As one of the precautions Spencer had a drainage system developed, just in case the aquarium was to break. Speaking of Spencer I wonder where he is right now.

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May 12, 1998

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Alone, that is what I am. My fears and monsters reside within me. I fear, not for myself, or what will happen to me, yet I do fear for humanity. Slowly but surly I am changing a little everyday. I fear what will become of us, and what that may bring.

This 'accident' was never supposed to occur. No one could have foreseen the fate of us or of the Spencer Mansion. One of my friends once said, "Do unto others what you would like to happen to you." Now it seems as though it is truly happening!

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May 14, 1998

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I know some of the dogs that were exposed to the virus escaped, even though the grounds keeper said none have. Many of the others including myself have put on special bio-suits; this idea came from none other than Spencer himself. No one has seen him in the mansion for days now.

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May 15, 1998

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The guards at the exit did serve a purpose, but their purpose only went so far. A man I once worked with was shot trying to escape. The corpse was presumably disposed of. One of the guards while recovering the corpse was lost and never found. No report was filed, what would be the point?

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May 19, 1998

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Everyone has taken off the Bio-suits; we know they are now doing no good.

I seem to be mutating much slower than any of the others. No one wants to be turn into a 'freak,' therefore some official (most likely Spencer) has placed guards at the exits to the mansion. The fool doesn't realize that by having guards positioned near the exit the chances of outside contamination is much greater.

I wonder if because I am changing slower than the others that, perhaps, a partial cure may exist within my body.

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May 21, 1998

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I'm having trouble finding a cure, I have been baffled by many things. For instance, I am changing but slower than the others. So why am I changing at all? The laws of genetics are much like a computer. I am speaking of binary of course, ones and zeros, either it is a on and on, or it is a zero and off. I may not have a cure, it could just be my mind settling in for the dormant stage of the change.

I must be close to a cure, I HAVE to be close!

Oh god, why did you have me do this, this work? I wish not to do it now. I wish to go home to Ada, my fiancé. Ada I am sorry, for I fear that I may never see you again, I am so very sorry. I wish I never came with the Boston team.

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May 22, 1998

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I am so very hungry for meat raw meat! How I want to sink my teeth into the plump pink flesh of my friends, friends of another life. Another life…NO! I must not eat; I MUST keep my sanity, for as long as I can.

I need a way to eat what I crave while staying sane. How to do this I must ponder. Perhaps the raw meat they keep in the fridge, perhaps they have some other things too…

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May 23, 1998

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I have given up hope on a cure. All I can do is hope the mutation doesn't hurt. I would prefer to have it fast and painless. The change seems to be accelerating now, the virus must be taking hold.

Today I talked to one of my friends, the gamekeeper, and he continuously banged his head against the wall, and chased me to my room on the first floor. I locked him in the closet, hopefully he won't get out. He was my last friend in this forsaken place.

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May 30, 1998

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I am now not seeing the change so much as feeling it. It is hard to describe. It is like your whole body is numb while feeling pins stabbing through your body, much like when your arm or leg falls asleep.

I went to the radiology lab where I looked at my sketal structure, and the results were quite startling. My spine had completely disappeared, part of my skull was gone, to me it seems like the bone in your body is actually broken down by the T-virus. This would explain why we as zombies move so slow. Yet it doesn't explain the others then…

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May 31, 1998

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I'm not exactly sure what to do now. I no longer crave human flesh nor food at all. I fear I have finished my transformation. Now that I can control myself again I may as well try to learn what happened to this facility, and why.

As I assumed when I decided to go outside on this eve I found there were many freakish creatures with long tongues and also some of the dogs the gamekeeper let escape. I wonder if the beasts will see me as their own and not attack me. For fear of being attacked I did not dare venture outside into the forest.

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June 8, 1998

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I have written a note to Ada, I want her to go public with the T-virus and its direct correlation with the outbreak that has occurred.

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June 12, 1998

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I feel I must comment that being a zombie has its perks and sadly its downfalls as well. Strength, no pain, and no sleep are all the good things. There's plenty of time to sleep when your dead as I always say. But the downfalls exceed the benefits though. For example my intelligence has taken a hit. I also seem to have a very short intention span and cannot concentrate on any one thing for more than one minute.

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June 15, 1998

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There is an increasing number of ravenous dogs that were codenamed Cerberus. These "dogs" are built for the solely for the purpose of torturing the spies from other companies such as HCF. I have also noticed that some of my own B.O.W.s are becoming more aggressive and more numerous. I cannot understand why, or even begin to conceive that they are gaining in numbers.

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June 22, 1998 (noon)

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It was still dark outside, when I saw a man sneaking around the mansion. He looked extremely familiar. All I can remember is that his last name was Weller and he had a white boy name like David or Daniel. Anyways he was walking outside the mansion and Cerberus snuck up and attacked him from behind. I managed to get outside and pick up a large rock, and threw it at the dog, most likely breaking what was left of its ribcage.

After I threw the rock Mr. Weller stared at me for a moment, and out of fear tried to struggle to his feet while blood oozed down his leg. He struggled to walk, and then passed out.

I carried Mr. Weller out of the forest and into Raccoon City, I dare say I was quite petrified to of being attacked by both man and beast. I set Mr. Weller next to the entrance to a liquor store. I broke in and stole the first bottle of Alcohol on the shelf. I returned to the mauled man and poured the Alcohol down the back of his left thigh. I saw his muscle contract as the Alcohol cleared away the blood. I then tore part of my shirt off to make a tourniquet. As soon as he started to come to I left to go back to the mansion.

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June 27, 1998

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The zombies are still increasing in numbers, and I have figured out why. Hikers are more common this time of year, and, consequently more people are changing due to the widespread outbreak, I wonder how far it has spread. I myself saw a mangled corpse in a stream near the mansion. The body was still being consumed by one of the zombies.

Yawn was a bio-engineered snake with poisonous fangs broke out of his containment cell and escaped to the attic of the mansion. I see no purpose in trying to contain him. I remember when he was only six feet long, oh how he like to hunt the mice!

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July 9, 1998

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A crimson head is the second phase of the transformation. A crimson head has an increased appetite, speed, and most of all strength. For the last day and a half, I have been attempting to lure the head crimson head into the facility's graveyard and down the steps. All attempts have failed, I must find bait.

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July 10, 1998

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I scoured the forest looking for the remains of some of the hikers. I found none, but I did find a live human. he was a little boy, and I slit his wrists and put him in a coffin along with the Spencer Mansion emblem, which is used to get to the residence. With this boy's blood I made a trail for the beast to follow. I trapped the Crimson head in the room with an iron gate. I kicked the brute into the coffin and quickly nailed it shut. For good measure I rigged the iron gate to fall if the coffin fell or lost weight. If it was ever needed I made a way to get the coffin down.

I created four masks. A mask with no eyes, a mask with no nose, a mask without a mouth, and the fourth mask without eyes, nose and a mouth. When all masks are placed in the certain alignment the coffin will fall along with the gate. Thankfully Spencer was somewhat of the occult, and had this built before as a way to enjoy the HCF spy's torture.

And to make certain no one would open it I took the arrow head made out of a cheap stone and welted it to a gold rod making it look as if it was an arrow. I of course still have a master key to get around and still have one of the other emblems so I can get to the residence if I ever need to, should the need ever arise.

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July 14, 1998

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Today I sent a fax to Umbrella SRD (special research department) outlining that something has gone horribly wrong. The scientists and other B.O.W.s are out of control, homicidal, and also very hungry. I told them by the time they read this that I would be dead, I said this so they would blow the place up or what ever without considering me.

I hope Umbrella is quick to react to this pressing situation, for if they don't put an end to this madness soon, I fear Raccoon City may become infected and then the state, and country. At that point all would be lost. I can't believe I forgot about the SRD!

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July 21, 1998

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The sounds of the forest have faded into nothingness. No longer can you hear the sounds of the owls; no longer can you hear the sound of the crickets. You can only sense the presence of the others now; they have now found a way to become silent. Their intelligence is growing somehow. We thought that they were changed into beings incapable of intellectual and articulate brain patterns. Yet, they have grown smarter. I hypothesize that the brain is dormant in the B.O.W. from the point of when the T-virus is injected, I further hypothesize that once the B.O.W. has reached a 'maturity date' they are zombies (second being crimson head). I also believe that there may be a _third maturity_ date a date that gives the zombies pathological thought. I must study these B.O.W.s further, to understand them and their behavior.

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July 23, 1998 (night)

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I have lit every candle in the mansion so it does not seem so gloomy. I put the lighter in the study on the top floor. I feel that the location I put things may help me in the future, some how...

I just heard a small thud, must be one of the stupid zombies running into a wall again. I think perhaps I turned into a zombie and immediately after changing I went to the third phase, skipping the second phase. It doesn't really matter any longer.

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July 24, 1998 (Dawn)

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Now surely that loud explosion or bang was not a zombie. Perhaps the T-Virus spread to the Marcus Mansion and someone activated the Self Destruct. Perhaps it was Umbrella. That would be capital!

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July 24, 1998 (night)

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I saw a man walking around in the middle of the day and when he was attacked I figured he may suffer the same fate as Mr. Weller, but to my surprise he could handle himself! He pulled out a pistol and a knife and started shooting and hacking his way through the hoards of Cerberuses and Zombies. I didn't want to go down for if I did he would surely have killed me, as if I was just another zombie.

I have also heard the beating of a helicopter's rotary blades, and the yells and screams of people down in the forest and my conclusions was that Umbrella had sent some men to find out what happened and blown the mansion to kingdom come.

After much gunfire and yelling in the forest, the men and women came to the mansion. To my surprise it was S.T.A.R.S. and one of my fellow colleagues was with them. Albert Wesker, I never have trusted that man. He has an odd gleam in his eyes.

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July 25, 1998 (early morning)

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Writing this now seems pointless. I have decided to do something that will most likely destroy me. I now know what I did and my fellow colleagues have done was wrong, I wish I could rewind everything and make everything be as it once was 10 years ago. Since I cannot do this I have decided to do something before it is to late. So I have decided instead to do something that could stop the T-Virus once an for all, before it can achieve it's death grip on humanity. I figure I am writing this so I will go through with it.

Ada, I will always remember you. God forgive me!

John goes to the power room and sets the timer for five minutes. He hopes five minutes is enough time for S.T.A.R.S to clear the blast area before the mansion complex explodes


	2. The School

**Chapter 1: The School**

They surrounded the school armed with AK-47s. Their mission was to annihilate every one.

They entered from every door, men and women fleeing, screaming. They wore all black, armed with Walter PPKs, body armor, and grenades. The grenades they all used liberally. Bodies flying left and right, utter chaos dwelt behind brick walls and closed doors.

In one room, a room yet so far untouched, the three dwell within. Of these three only one is truly important. It only takes one to defeat the greatest of foes, the biggest of adversaries.

The three sat huddled together, one crying, the other two on the verge of mental breakdown. An explosion rocked the tiny room as a long death scream came from the hall just outside the door.

The three could hear, nay, almost see in their mind's eye the bodies being riddled with bullets, and the corpses oozing blood onto the tiled floor, as the men and women in black continued their rampant reign of destruction.

Closer, louder, and less frequent the bursts of fire became. The explosions had become non-existent. A final smattering of gunshots emitted from the hall, as a man dressed all in black kicked the door down.

The man, gun raised, scanned the room and then lowered his weapon. The man took off his mask revealing a scar just below his right eye. He raised his hand to his mouth, "Sir. This is Sergei. Yes sir! We found the remaining three. We are located in the northwest room numbered 704. Yes, I will sir. Yes, the secondary objective of eliminating all nonessential civilians is complete. Awaiting further orders."

The one who was crying had finally stopped, her blonde hair matted against her face. Her face was streaked with tears, and her shirt was now matted to her chest.

Of the three who sat huddled together, the important one was named Zane, the other two were named Amber and Seth. Amber still gasping for air from crying said, "Who are you and why are you doing this?"

The man snapped at attention as a man and a woman walked into the room. The man wore a small fur hat that the Russian generals once wore. He said, "Good work Sergei." He patted the soldier guarding the door on the shoulder before saying, "Now leave us." As the guard left the room, he grabbed the door handle and closed the door swiftly and silently.

The three huddled together, Zane tried to shift himself so that he was between the two in black and his friends.

The man let out a long sigh as he raised his right hand and took off his cap. He distastefully tossed his cap aside and withdrew his pistol.

Somehow Amber summed up the courage and asked, "Why? Why are you doing this?"

The woman spoke in a thick Russian accent, "Shut up you stupid insolent little Americ—" She never quite finished her statement for the man had raised his hand to silence her, "It is okay, they have a right to know." He turned towards the three who were huddling together out of fear. "My name is Barry Redfield, I am a slayer, a hit man if you will. My assignment was to eliminate the inhabitants of this building. I did it with a heavy heart, but I know I must leave one survivor—one of you."

"Fuck you! You murdered everyone in this school, and now, now you're asking for forgiveness?"" yelled Seth.

Barry raised his gun and fired. Seven dark red holes appeared in Seth's chest before he lifelessly fell to the ground.

"I don't care much for that tone boy!" countered Barry.

The woman looked at the lifeless heap on the floor and a tear came to her eye, but that tear soon disappeared.

"Only one can live. I'll allow both of you to choose who will die. The survivor will relay a message to the government," exclaimed Barry in a passive voice.

Zane and Amber were shocked. After about thirty seconds of silence, Zane said something, "Take me, but note this when I die I'll be there to personally kick yo…"

Barry fired the final bullet from his chamber, and quickly left the room with the woman. Zane and Amber still stood, Zane quickly checked himself for bullet wounds he found none. "Holy shit. He missed. Amber he" Zane looked up at Amber and realized what had happened. Her hand was stained with her blood.


	3. The Psychiatric Ward

**Chapter 2: The Psychiatric Ward**

As it turns out Barry shot Amber in the stomach, and she died soon after, in front of Zane. Over the next ten years, Zane trained his body and his mind, and he swore he would never allow something like this to happen again.

In recent years, he has had certain contacts with certain mob bosses and crime lords, and well, he is now a contract killer. One of his most recent assignments took him to Turkmenistan, where he assassinated a major political figure. His mission was a complete success, and created so much upheaval that the government was overthrown and now the UN has stepped in.

Zane now works under the name of Mr. Grish. Despite the upheaval a certain organization has come to realize that they need a man like Mr. Grish to do their hits with such acuteness so that he becomes an indispensable asset.

This company who hired Mr. Grish deals with certain governments, companies, and other organizations. Since this organization deals with people who tend to get killed, they do not try to assign names with faces, for that would encourages friendship. They assign every hit man or in some cases hit woman, a number. Mr. Grish is Number Six.

Number Six is the best trained and the pride of all hit men. In the world, Number Six is infamous and notorious for getting his hit and not being seen.

His most recent hit was in a psychiatric ward. He was not seen once, although what he did was.

The cameras were rolling, pointing to a standing guard. The guard was holding a shotgun, and standing with his back to one of the corridors. He raised his left arm and yawned. From the camera's point of view someone wrapped fiber wire around the guard's neck, and yanked backwards, and the fiber wire slit the guard's throat, spilling blood onto the floor. The guard soon stopped struggling and was slowly dragged backwards. Minutes later a man walked out wearing the guard's uniform that happened to have some of the blood still on it.

Number Six strode down the halls, down towards the maximum security section. 714, 712, 710, one more block till his target's room.

He passed another guard, suspicion rising. 668, 666, 664. The other guard now drew nearer, Number Six the least bit concerned. 612, 610, 608. He walked past room 608, his target and rounded the corner, the guard now running after him.

The guard never had a chance. Number Six had rounded the corner and scanned the area for any surveillance equipment. He found none, so he wheeled around and waited. The guard sprinted around the corner, and was tripped by Number Six. The guard's gun went sprawling across the floor making a clattering noise.

The guard started to get on all fours and go after the gun, but Number Six had rushed the shotgun butt into the guard's back. The guard gave a long shrill yelp of pain as the wood and metal snapped his spine. To silence his foe Number Six took out his knife and stabbed it into the back of the guard's head.

The blood flowed out of the back of the man's head and out his mouth. Number Six opened the janitor's closet that was coincidently located right next to him, and threw the body inside after taking off the guard's shirt. He mopped up the still blood on the floor with the shirt and threw it on top of the guard's red scalp. He shut the door and headed towards room 608.

When he arrived outside room 608 he peered into the room through the shatterproof glass. A man named General Zovkovski, sat on his bed staring at the wall. His head was bobbing wildly in a continuous rhythm.

Number Six picked the lock then entered. Number Six always like to see who he killed before he actually killed them, if he could help it, so he stealthily walked around the bed. The man began to notice movement out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to face Mr. Grish.

Number Six raised the shotgun's barrels to the man's head. The man continued to turn his head, at first something seemed familiar with this man, and then Zane saw the man's scar, just below his right eye.

In Zane's mind the past was reliving itself, the explosions, the blood, the loss.

When Number Six turned his attention back to Sergie, he noticed he had a misty look in his eyes, the same misty look Zane had just moments before. Sergie said something in a sad and deep voice, "I've been waiting for you. I was just, it doesn't matter now. There is something I need to tell you before you kill me."

Number Six backed away in case Sergie tried anything funny, "What do you want?"

Sergie continued, "It is not what I want, but what you want. What we all want. I, by now hope you know what I am, if you don't remember me, it is a pity you forgot so quickly. I am sorry for what we did I truly am, but I have a way you can seek retribution.

"Your contractor Alexie Minko, is Barry Redfield's late daughter. She died right after the attack on your school. Her father—killed her.

"We had bad information that day, Alexie received information directly from our sources, and since the information was bad her father immediately assumed that she had allied herself with the enemy. The accusations were unfound, but she was put to death, her executioner, was, her father. If you backtrack the paper trail from your organization, you can find him."

Sergie turned his gaze from Number Six to the ground. "Kill me if you'd like, I won't blame you for it. I would understand."

Number Six walked towards the door, and was just about to step through the doorway when he thought of something. "You know you and your 'friends' put within me a fire that burned so hot it could melt anything. That fire soon died, but you have rekindled it with a hundred times the intensity of what it was before.

"Edmund Burke once said 'When bad men combine, the good must associate; else they will fall one by one, and unpitied sacrifice in a contemptible struggle.' I am not here to pass judgment upon you. That is between you and God." And with that he left Sergie there all by himself, behind a brick wall, and a closed door. Number Six left the building the same way he had come, and out the broken window.

Two days later Number Six picked up a paper and read about the murders in the psychiatric ward. They found three dead. Two guards, and one patient. The guards appeared to have been murdered, and the patient committed suicide. They say, "The police concluded that the deaths of the guards were committed by the patient, and the patient then killed himself. We asked the Chief of Police for his views on the subject and this was what he had to say, '…to me it seems a pretty much closed case. The wack- patient was most likely treated poorly and revolted by killing the guards, before killing himself.' —Continued page A-3."

Number Six sipped his coffee and pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number, "Hello, Diane, this is Number Six, can you get into the company's computers? I've got a favor to ask of you.


	4. The Hit

**Chapter 3: The Hit**

Diane had given him everything he needed and then some. She was able to uncover Alexie Monko's Social Security number, under normal circumstances this would have been rendered useless, but it seems that Mr. Redfield has been using this name quite a bit lately, buying many scientific devices.

All the purchases made under this name seem to have originated from Greenland. Specifically in the most northwest part of Greenland, in the Tundra.

In advance, for payment, Number Six was sent to St. Petersburg, Russia to assassinate yet another major political figure.

Russia has seen its fair share of bullets and bloodshed. Not exactly the greatest place for a hit. The guards are most likely well trained, and heavily armed, but Number Six knows how to get past that.

He arrived at the Metro Station, and calmly walked over to locker '172.' He used the key and opened the door. Within locker '172' was an SVD sniper rifle, ammo, a silenced pistol, and more ammo.

Number Six took all the weapons, and ammo and stuffed them deep within his coat. He shut the locker door and turned around to see a man eyeing him suspiciously.

He quickly ascended the stairs and exited the Metro Station. When he emerged from the Metro, he noticed it was snowing, and that the wind was blowing slightly, when he took his shot he would have to compensate for the wind factor.

Number Six walked down the street, and turned right at the intersection. The guards were becoming more prevalent, as he neared the Pushkin Building.

The guards were wearing Kevlar vest, and armed with SP12s (a quite formidable foe). The guards were pacing the length of the building, and Number Six knew there was no way he was going to get in the building unseen.

Number Six surveyed the area further and noticed generals in the second story of the Pushkin Building. He also realized that directly on the other side of the street was a building that had "восстанавливать" on it, in English it meant renovating.

Number Six walked over to the building and casually entered the through the door. He sprinted up the stairs to the fourth floor, and pulled out his SVD Sniper Rifle, and crouched down. He aimed the rifle to the window where the generals sat conversing.

"Diane, I need some information on my target."

"Number Six, this is Diane. I'm leafing through some records that we received from last year, it appears that he is a non-smoker."

"Good, narrows it down a little. Do you have anything else?"

"Just a second, aw I found a picture of him, it appears that he is bald."

"That doesn't do me much good considering they are all wearing hats, except for one."

"It also appears he likes to drink a lot." As Diane said this statement one of the men chugged down a glass of Brandy.

"Target Acquired!" Number Six fired his gun, shattering glass, wood, and bone. He watched for a few moments as the body went limp, and lifelessly fell to the ground.

The Generals looked at the body, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Once the other Generals realized that one amongst them had succumbed to his fate, they looked out the window, saw a sniper and ran towards the doors.

Number Six realized that the building being renovated would soon come under attack by the bodyguards, therefore he took the SVD Sniper Rifle and left. He walked to the window on the building's west corner. I pushed the window open and climbed out. He placed his feet on the ledge, taking care not to slip and fall. He was about forty feet from the ground.

He gingerly shifted his weight so that he would be as close to the wall as physically possible. He scooted across the ledge, trying to get to the fire escape, so that he would not be seen by any bodyguards. The ledge was slippery, due to the fact that it was snowing, and that the wind was blowing.

Carefully, ever so carefully he moved, trying not to make any snowfall. Three stories below, the bodyguards were entering the building, rushing in from every entrance. Number Six edged closer towards the fire escape.

The wind began to pick up, and Zane slipped, falling over the ledge. At the very last moment, he grabbed the icy ledge. I held on for dear life. Once he collected himself, he began to move hand by hand. He moved slowly, trying not to slip, for if he did he would plummet three stories to his death.

Suddenly he slipped, the icy ledge crumbled beneath his grip. Falling, falling. Lucky he only fell about twelve feet before he gripping a pole of the fire escape. He calmly sauntered down the fire escape, leaving utter chaos behind him.

Number Six walked back to the Metro, hoping that he wasn't being followed. He entered the train and pulled out his cell phone.

"Diane. This is Number Six. I need a ticket to the northwest corner of Greenland. My end of the deal is complete."

"How soon do you need them?"

"As soon as possible."


	5. The door to safety is shut

**Chapter 4: The door to safety is shut**

The sun was setting as the wind was blasting into their unshielded faces. The temperature was –7 degrees Celsius and dropping. The men were stumbling around as if they were lost and confused.

The front gates swung in the gusting winds. Open, Close, Open. Everyone outside seemed to disregard the gate's wild swinging.

Mr. Grish was surveying the mansion-like village through the swinging gates. All the buildings seemed to be interconnected by a small corridor. Zane looked at the papers he was given, and verified the complex's location.

He came to Greenland by plane, and had then trekked on foot ten miles in the freezing wind to his current location, 71W 78N. Zane is currently hiding behind a pile of steel, stone, and ice.

The men had no visible weapons, so Zane assumed them to be civilians. Mr. Grish pulled out his silenced pistol and checked the magazine and chamber for bullets before putting his binoculars and pistol in his heavy fur coat.

Mr. Grish stood up, and began to walk around the pile of rubble. Due to the cold Mr. Grish stepped up his pace, and began to jog towards the gates. As he neared the gates, the wandering men began to notice Zane, but Mr. Grish pressed on.

Of all the things that could happen, he never quite expected this. One of the men confronted him. The man said in flawless Vietnamese, "Tạm ngưng! Đứng im." Being a hit-man it was important to know different languages. Mr. Grish quickly deciphered what the man said. The translation was quite simple, 'Halt! Don't move.'

Mr. Grish had never truly used Vietnamese in his life and was worried that he somehow may accidentally call this man's mother a dog or something, so he said the only sentence he could. "Anh có nói được tiếng anh không." 'Which means do you speak English?'

The man replied with, "Được." which means 'yes.' Zane smiled, greatly relieved. The man continued to speak, but in bad English, "No go in." The man pointed towards the gates. "It have curse of dead. Many die, some live." The man gestured to those surrounding him. "We all live. All others die. No go in." Zane looked into the concern filled face of the man, but pushed him aside. He had to complete his vendetta, even if it killed him.

He walked through the gates, no one stopped him, but everyone eyed him. He entered the doors to the main building, and softly closed the door. The door to safety is shut, there is no turning back.


	6. The First Encounter

**Chapter 5: The First Encounter**

Zane walked through the front door, and out of the cold, closing the door behind him. He was instantly met with a rush of hot air. His face stung with the extreme change in temperature.

He gawked at the room. There was a Persian rug a mere foot in front of him. A diamond chandelier hung from the ceiling, and there was a staircase that formed a crescent moon.

Zane saw four doors. Two doors were in front of him, on the first and second floor. The other two doors were located to his immediate left and right.

Zane decided the best way to go was forward, and entered the first story door that was in front of him. He reached for the door knob, the heat from the knob warmed his half frozen hand, and he held it there for a moment before opening the door.

Zane, when he entered, noticed rows of computers that displayed graphs and other data. The chairs were overturned, and some broken. Zane flicked the light switch, hoping that he would have more light, but as luck would have it no light came on.

A long groan came from the far back right computer. Zane walked over, hoping to get information on where Redfield was. "My name is num…my name is Zane. Are you okay?" Another gurgling noise came from the corner.

Zane began to stealthy walk towards the noise. As he neared a human lying on its stomach came into view.

Zane still advancing asked, "Are you injured?"

When the lying person heard this, it snapped its head into the air and turned to see Mr. Grish looming over him.

"The people at the gates said that everyone in here had died. I guess they were-" As Mr. Grish said his last sentence he realized in the light of the screen that this man had blood smeared across his chin.

Zane saw the thing's face. Partially decomposed hanging flesh still attached to its face. Mr. Grish tried to pull out his pistol, but the accursed beast lunged for Zane's throat, missing by mere inches.

Zane stood up, the man's jaw snapping at his heels. Mr. Grish backed away, trying to get away from the cannibalistic beast. It raised its body up, and loomed towards Zane. Zane felt like a rat in a snake's vice grip. Zane had dropped his gun in the fray and was now unarmed.

It neared Zane, arms outstretched, need fully wanting to sink its teeth into its pray. Mr. Grish went into a fighting stance, waiting for it to come close enough. Three meters…two meters, it loomed nearer, giving off a death rattle. Zane crouched down, increasing the tension in his muscles. The thing was less than a meter away, Zane had hesitated long enough. He unleashed a fearsome sidewinder kick directly at the things neck, breaking bone, cartilage, and also spilling blood on the floor. The body went soaring through the air; the head crashing into the monitor of one of the computers sending sparks into the air.

Zane examined the corpse. "Wha-What the hell, was he…it…" He never finished his sentence looking towards the door, from which screams and yells were coming.


	7. Another Survivor?

**Chapter 6**

His adrenalin was pumping throughout his body. Only a minute ago he was a Human Popsicle. Now he was a sweaty blazing inferno.

The howling and screaming made his blood run cold, yet again. He ran out the door, and sprinted over to the front door flinging it open. He was met wit ha rush of cold air that stung his eyes, but he was unable to close them due to what he saw.

He saw the men and women who had stood in front of the gate, try to shut it. Their efforts were in vain, for they were attacked by the hordes of cannibalistic people that now fit the description of the undead.

It wasn't a fight; it was an onslaught. The men and women tried to fight back, but the zombies took every hit and came back for more. The humans were out numbered two to one. Blood from the humans' faces, necks, and legs colored the once white snow.

It was now almost dark; the sun had nearly gone all the way down. Zane closed the door, and leaned against it, sliding down to the ground. He started gasping for air He wasn't crying, but he was laughing.

"I came all the way here to kill a man who destroyed me." He began to laugh harder. "I bet the bastard was attacked by one of the freaks, and he screamed and cried like a little girl." He continued to laugh, kicking his feet at the rug.

His laughter soon died when he realized the rug had moved about an inch, revealing a small corner of parchment. Zane gazed at the paper, and gingerly reached out and pulled the paper out. He examined it for a long moment before realizing that he was holding a map of the complex, a quite long and extensive map at that. The only problem was that one of the corners had been torn off.

Mr. Grish decided to go to the place on the map that was torn off in hope of finding an exit. But first he decided that he should try to find some weaponry, if at all possible.

He walked back to the computer room, found his gun, and placed it in his right hand, ready to fire, should the need ever arise.

He left the room, and entered the door on the right. Through the corridor he went, hoping to find weapons of any kind. Into a room that had a suit of armor, chain-male, and various weaponry of the mid-evil times. Mr. Grish picked up a ball and chain, only to find to his dissatisfaction, that they were no more than ceramic and plaster.

In his anger he threw the ball and chain directly into one of the swords, causing it to fall on the chain-male. Zane looked from the broken ball and chain, to the damaged sword, to the unscathed chain-male. Zane examined the chain-male closer, noticing the intricate pattern of the small metal circles.

He decided that the zombies' teeth could not permeate the 1/8 inch thick metal. He put on the chain-male, a little baggy, but what can't hurt you must only help.

Zane thought he heard a yell from the front entrance. He jetted back to the main hall, just in time to see a zombie stumble into the room at the top of the stairs. He heard a female voice scream for help.

He bounded up the stairs there at a time. He swung around the door, and watched as three zombies advanced upon a defenseless woman. She was crouched down, cradling a bloody arm.

"Get away from me you viral fuck!" With that she stood up and launched a massive kick into the nearest zombie's chest, crushing it instantly.

She looked to the door way to see an unknown man standing still. "Help me!" She pleaded.

Mr. Grish snapped out of his trance and stepped into the room. The zombie that was kicked started crawling towards Zane. Zane's first instinct was to pass it, but on second thought he raised his hand and fired a muffled round into the zombie's head. The muffled gunshot echoed in the small room. The two zombies must have heard the shot, or at least have sensed it because they turned to face Mr. Grish.

Mr. Grish went towards the left wall in the room, near a grand Mesa table and fired the six remaining bullets, all of which went into the closest zombie's chest. The zombie stumbled, and then fell giving a death rattle.

The other zombie continued to advance. Mr. Grish was out of bullets, and surveyed the room for any type of weaponry. He found none, and the zombie continued to draw nearer, Mr. Grish unable to protect himself.

Mr. Grish held out his hands trying to hold the zombie away from him. It grabbed his shoulders, drawing its face towards Mr. Grish's neck. Mr. Grish could smell the foul odor of decay coming from the beast's mouth and body.

He felt the teeth bite into the metal that protected his body. The metal began to pinch his skin, and then it began to rip it.

The woman who was in the corner had come up to the zombie, and kicked it in the back of the knee, causing it to release its grip on Zane.

Mr. Grish realized what had happened, and that there was no way around the zombie, so he turned and kicked the leg of the Mesa table, snapping it clean off. He picked up the table leg as the table began to fall. He gripped that table leg, and brought it down directly on the thing's lower back, he raised it again, this time it came down on the zombie's head, spraying blood across Mr. Grish's face. He continued beating the lifeless corpse wit the Mesa leg, even after it was apparent it was dead.

The woman walked over to Mr. Grish, reaching out her hand. "I think it's dead." She reached out and grabbed the bloody Mesa lag from Mr. Grish.

Zane, panting, said, "So-what's your-story?"

"I was forced here, against my will. I was supposed to be a subject, and I escaped."

"Subject, a subject for what?"

The woman looked at him quizzically. "Do you even know what goes on here?"

"Errrrrr, no. I came here to-to fulfill a promise." Zane swung his arm motioning to the corpses. "What happened here?"

The woman stood there for a moment, thinking as if trying to find the words to explain it. The finally she spoke. "It all started six years ago, in a city in America, named Raccoon City."

"I heard something about that, supposedly some terrorists stole a nuke, and bombed America."

"Not exactly. That is what the government said happened. The truth was that there was an outbreak. A virus created by the corrupt company named Umbrella.

"The virus escaped their facility, and spread to the city. The inhabitants of Raccoon City were bombed by the government to slow do the spreading.

"A few made it out alive, but not many."

"How do you know this?" asked Zane.

She looked at him and raised her eyebrows. "Because I am one of the few who survived the nightmare in Raccoon City."

Zane looked at the woman in awe.

"We should try to find some weapons. I know a way out, but it is filled with these freaks." She gestured to the zombies lying on the floor.

"I agree, by the way my name is Zane."

"Lindsay."

"Let's get to work."

Both Lindsay and Zane walk out the door and down the stairs.


	8. The Lurking Horrors

**Chapter 7 The lurking horrors**

"I'm sorry I know I talk too much."

Both Lindsay and Zane walked down the hall, and through the corridor to a door that Zane had not yet come to open.

"It's okay, given the circumstances."

"Yeah, well I tend to talk a lot when I get nervous."

"Why are you nervous?"

She looked at Zane, half expecting him to be joking. "Because when they bite, some of their saliva is transmitted into the wound."

Zane stopped walking, "So what does that mean exactly?"

She looked up at him, into his eyes. "It means that if you get bitten, that you turn into one of them."

"I'm assuming that you were bitten." He takes glances briefly at Lindsay's wound.

"Wha-oh this?" Lindsay gestures to her lacerated arm. I got this when I tried to escape. One of the scientists had partially changed, and well, I guess he was crazed because he attacked me with a scalpel. He did a little damage, but let's just say he is a little deader than he was before."

"You want me to take care of it?" Zane fixed his gaze upon the shredded arm. "I have something that may help. It's a medicine I'm supposed to take, but I never use it. Supposedly it has the power to clean toxins from the body, while accelerating your metabolism, causing you to heal faster. Or if you would prefer, I could sew your arm back together using a needle and thread. I always carry it around.

"Umm. I'll take the pill, but how good are you with a needle and thread?"

"Let's just say that I can take care of myself." After he finished the statement he lifted his chain-male, coat, and t-shirt, revealing a ten inch scar that started at his left nipple to just above his belly-button. "I was…in the war, one of the enemies…stabbed me…with his combat knife. My, uh, unit found me passed out, I had sewn myself back together, but yeah…" Zane trails off.

Lindsay looked at him as if he was some type of physco. "Just a question, what war were you in?"

Zane paused for a minute, as if thinking and then said, "The war that has consumed my life." Before Lindsay could say anything, Zane commented, "I don't think you'd understand. Anyways were here." Zane pointed behind him at a solid oak door. He pushed the door open and peered inside, making sure the coast was clear, and then stated, as casually as possible with a large grin on his face. "Ladies first."

Lindsay knew Zane was hiding something about himself, and did not press it upon him, for fear he may go insane. After all she was also nervous around him; he had after all just beaten a corpse with a Mesa table leg. She walked into the room, and Zane followed close behind.

"A library!" Zane's voice echoed throughout the room.

Books filled the shelves, covered with dust. Many of the books seem to have never been used, although there seems to be a path that has been worn away with use.

Zane and Lindsay both separated, going to opposite ends of the library. Zane walked to the east side, examining the wear along the floor.

"These books have never been used." Stated Lindsay, pulling a red-spinned book down from the shelf. "Oh! Yuck! That's disgusting!"

"What?"

"The book is covered with dried blood!" Lindsay put her finger on top of the book, pulling the top of the spine towards her.

Zane, nearest the east wall, heard a clicking noise. "Hey! Lindsay, come over here I heard something coming from behind the bookcase!"

As Lindsay came over, Zane heard the same clicking noise, only this time much faster.

"There it is again. It sounds…It sounds like, someone dragging metal on a tiled floor."

"Uh."

Zane pushed a whole shelf of books onto the floor, hoping that he could hear the noise better.

What happened next almost caused Zane to have a heart attack, for he had placed his ear directly onto the wood. He could hear a shuffling noise getting louder, and pressed his ear harder against the wood. Then as quickly as he heard it, it stopped.

"Whatever it was stop-" A bloody hand punctured through the book case, no more than a foot from his head. This caused Lindsay to nearly jump out of her skin, and Zane to bang his head against the shelf that was just above his head.

The bloody hand groped for Zane's neck.

The bloody hand streaked the cold and sticky blood across Zane's face. Zane was able to pull his head out of the shelf just in time. The hand want back through the hole in the wall, leaving Zane feeling violated.

Zane wiped the new and old dried blood from his face with his arm, creating a blotched red surface on his left temple.

Zane lowered his chain maille and shirt. Yet again the brute put its hand through the wall, but this time the arm came through, swinging wildly. The hand whipping around, grabbing the detachable shelves of books located above, and ripping them out of their sleeves. And yet again the arm and hand became obscured by the shelf's backing.

This time nothing came through the hole. But what happened next proves that they feel no pain, for the zombie had rushed its head through the shelves backing, causing wood to splinter and fall around the gaping hole. It brought its head back into the unknown location behind the shelf.

"I think it stopped." stated Lindsay.

"I don't think so," replied Zane.

"Why?"

"Because, we're not dead." chortled Zane

Mr. Grish looked around the room for a weapon of some kind, but could only find books.

Zane glanced back at the wall just in time to see the zombie stick its head through the hole. It looked up, showing its dead eyes, blue lips, and decaying cheeks. It groaned, showing its teeth ravaged by disease. It rushed its head up through the backing, creating a slit about one foot in length, just enough room for the zombie to get through.

Two beasts walked through the gaping hole. One of the beasts seemed to be a changed human, just another zombie. But the other seemed much more dangerous.

If it were to stand up, it would be up to Mr. Grish's shoulders. The teeth dripping blood onto the hardwood floor. Claws, green with slime. Its face was also green, but human-like. But the body's complexity was beyond reason, or at least beyond the comprehension of anyone in that room.

It stood like a human, but leapt like a frog. No sooner had they seen the unknown beast, than it was on top of Lindsay, trying to slash her flesh with its razor sharp claws.

Mr. Grish would have helped, but he had his hands full dealing with the single zombie. He had no weapons of any kind, yet he had to face this formidable foe.

Long ago Zane, after the shooting, learned much about the martial arts and had been a star pupil at his Dojo. Every opponent he faced lost. He quickly surpassed his peers in skill, and the only one in the dojo who had any chance of winning was non other than Zane's Sen-sai.

Zane had become fed up with the slow training of the dojo, and threatened to leave. The Sen-sai told Zane that if he could beat his master, that he would consent to having Zane move at a faster pace, or leave, if he so wished. His master had beaten him, and Zane said it was a fluke and left frustrated. He suddenly wished that he had stayed, for he knew how to take pain but not how to avoid damage.

He stood three meters from the accursed beast, and Zane was now trying to decide what he should do. He disputed in his mind whether it would be better to kill this zombie, and the sharp toothed, sharp clawed, frog-like creature that loomed over Lindsay or the creature and then the zombie.

He made his decision quickly and decisively, moving into a fighting stance. Try as he might he could not truly concentrate on his enemy, as Lindsay was groaning about her arm as she tried to hold the beast far enough back so that it could not damage her.

Mr. Grish, remembering the gun in his coat, quickly pulled it out. He knew he had no bullets but he knew everything could be used as a weapon.

Mr. Grish feebly swung his pistol about, hoping to make contact with the zombie's upper body. Soon he realized that the motion was doing no good, so he kicked the zombie directly in the stomach. The only problem though was that the zombie was reaching out and just happened to grab his leg.

The force of the impact sent the zombie soaring back, and caused Zane's leg to be torn by the zombies nails.

Things were beginning to look very bleak for Zane and Lindsay. For now, Zane's leg was gravely injured, and Lindsay was growing weary from the weight she held up.

The zombie rose, ready for yet another beating. Zane knew his luck and life was soon going to run out if this spiel continued. Zane abandoned the battle with the zombie, hobbled over to Lindsay, and collected himself.

As the beast rose its massive meaty arm and claw, Zane leaped on top of it, forcing his arm around its neck. Zane began to lean back, as if trying to peel the creature off Lindsay. Lindsay also helped by putting her foot on the thing's chest and pushing outward.

Zane tightened his grip on the thing's neck. It began to stumble backwards and fell. It fell directly on Lindsay's legs, yet again pinning her down.

Zane began to loosen his grip on the thing's neck. Lindsay began to say something but froze in mid-sentence. Instead she began to fumble with her hands, trying to convey the point that something was behind him. Zane, unable to realize what was going on behind him began to ask what, but it was too late.

The zombie, while Zane tried to help Lindsay had risen to its feet. It now was grabbing for Zane's neck.

Lindsay, petrified, squirmed out from under the massive beast, and backed up as fast as she could. She hit the far east wall, and turned to see what obstructed her path. Lindsay saw the bloody book lying on the floor, and looked up.

The bookcase looked well made from afar, but up close you could see that the shelf was old and busted. It needed a new coat of varnish, new nails, and even some new wood.

She turned back to see Zane relentlessly attempting to fend off the zombie that was attacking from behind. She wanted to help but aimlessly looked at Zane, then realized she could help. She picked up the book and chucked it at Zane praying he would see it in time to catch it. She hoped that Zane would catch it and use it as a shield from the zombie's teeth. He never saw the release or for that matter her grabbing the bloody book.

All Zane felt was the sudden jolt of the zombie jerking backwards. He wondered what happened, but was suddenly preoccupied with the shrill squeak of Lindsay's laugh of glee.

The zombie did not fall though, it merely stumbled. It continued its assault on Zane. Lindsay realized that what she did only happened to confuse Zane. She looked around the room and found no weapons. She calmly turned to face the bookshelf, leaving Zane looking at her back.

Zane let out a long shrill yelp as the zombie's teeth found a way around the chain maille, and drove into his neck. His blood spilled on the floor like a leaky faucet.

Lindsay meanwhile tried to break the bookshelf with the heel of her hand. On the first hit it groaned, the second made it creak. On the third assault, she used all her strength causing the wood to snap clean from the shelf's backing. She grabbed the wood, holding it like a baseball bat and sprinted towards Zane. She swung the wood at the beast trying to fend it back, trying to keep it away from Zane.

The wood struck the zombie in the hip, shoulder, and skull. The beating it received would have crippled any living human. The smashing blow to the shoulder would have easily dislocated a human's shoulder, but being a zombie it felt no pain.

The concussive beating to the head caused the zombie to die. Lindsay looked at the corpse and noticed a red sticky substance oozing out of the beast's skull. Lindsay tried to lift the wood, but couldn't. She jerked, tugged, and pulled in the attempt of pulling the wood away from the beast's head. After about thirty seconds of tugging on the wood, she finally gave up.

Lindsay scanned the room and saw the zombie lying unmoving before her, and saw the sharp-tooth beast lying still near the bookshelf. Her gaze eventually took her to Zane's still body lying in a heap on the floor. She walked over and knelt beside him, and tried to nurse his wounds.


	9. The Awakening

**The Awakening**

Zane slowly opened hi eyes, and saw the oak ceiling and the few lights that hung from them. Everything was blurry and fuzzy, as if he was viewing the scene through a poorly tuned T.V.

Zane slowly raised his head, trying to get a better view of his surroundings. He realized he was still in the library, and immediately started flailing his arms and hands, as if trying to fend off an enemy that wasn't there.

When he finally realized that he was not being attacked, he raised himself up so he could more clearly view his surroundings. He looked around the room calculating the amount if danger he was in. The zombie and the other beast lie in a motionless heap on the floor. His gaze took him from the bodies of the corpses to the broken bookshelf, to the hole from which the came, and finally to his very own feet.

His feet and legs were individually bound with a white cloth. Lying at his feet were books scattered in a chaotic circle. Zane came to the conclusion that he had been attacked by the zombie, passed out, and mended by Lindsay. He lifted his hand and caressed his neck. He felt a damp cloth around his neck. As he rubbed, he noticed that Lindsay was not around and lowered his hand.

Zane placed his hands, palm down, on the floor, and torpidly raised himself. Exerting himself, he rose to his knees before the strain of his own weight became too much.

He lifted hand to his brow and wiped the sweat from his brow. Zane, thinking about his wounds, reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small Rx bottle that contained his pills. He forced the lid open and poured half of the contents into his open hand. Examining the pills he noted the oval shape, and tossed them into his mouth and chewed them eagerly before falling over on his side and passing out from the strain put on his body.

When he awoke he felt almost one hundred percent. He removed the cloth from his legs. He smirked when he saw what was left of the wound. A small scratch, no more than three inches shown from where the flesh had been ripped clean.

He looked around the room and immediately noticed his Rx bottle had been refilled with the unused contents and resealed, most likely by Lindsay.

Zane rose to his feet with relative ease after repocketing his pills. He was assuming Lindsay went ahead, into the abysmal dark that was obscured behind the bookshelf, and in hopes of meeting up with her, Zane too squeezed through the hole. He left his safe haven behind, never to see it again.

As Zane exited the library through the hole, he lost his flooring and fell. He fell maybe two feet when he extended his arms and hands sideways so they caught on the wall. The assassin slowly moved his feet beneath him and lowered his body. His feet went maybe one or two feet down until they hit solid ground.

Zane breathed a sigh of relief, and carefully tested the ground that lie before him with his foot. He quickly understood that he was on stone steps in the darkness. Slowly and cautiously he descended the stone stairs that went down in a spiral.

It may all be in Zane's mind but he thought the temperature must be dropping about three degrees Fahrenheit for every ten feet. Yet Zane continued his trek down the steps.

Zane's eyes were beginning to adjust to the dark and gloomy stone stairwell as he continued his descent. From somewhere below a soft golden glow emitted from the floor of the ancient stone stairs. A torch came into view, it lit a stone arch doorway.

Zane could distinctly smell decaying flesh. The smell wafting towards his nose in the unrelenting battle to make him vomit. He covered his mouth with his coat, trying to create a makeshift filter.

He continued to walk towards the torch, realizing that he could lift the torch out of it's iron bracket. He jerked the torch up, spilling some of the January embers. The silent assassin extended his right arm to light his way, and walked through the arched stone doorway. The Light was cascading from the torch, illuminating the ghastly room.

Metal containment units stood nine feet high, four feet wide, and six feet long. They tightly packed the cafeteria-sized room. There must have been at least twelve in a row and six columns.

Zane held the torch out, casting phantom shadows on the walls and the rusting containment cells. To the right of the heavy iron door was a display lit by green and red indicator lights. Above the indicator lights was a metal plaque, that read "Hunter, experiment A-621."

He peered inside the unit, he couldn't see much since the only light was from the torch, but he had enough to view gloomy contents. Wires like vines strung from the unit's roof to the floor. A large tube the size of a cannon barrel must have been used for ventilation, or o pump other sadistic gasses into the unit. There was one more tube filled with a brownish sludge that seemed to give nutrients to whatever had dwelt behind the massive iron doorway.

He backed up and re-examined the control panel. Just below the indicator was a faint three-dimensional picture that looked oddly familiar. He moved the light away so he could get a sharper image on the LCD screen.

The design was quite detailed, two massive meaty arms, claws on both hands and feet. In a way it looked like a giant frog that had been genetically mutated. Suddenly Zane understood all at once. All of these cells contain or had contained Guinea-pigs for this places sick sadistic experiments. People and animals had been forced here against their will, forced to live, and turned into an ungodly mutant. For the first time since his experience in the school, he felt uncontrollable inhuman fear. He had a need to cry out in rage, and he had a burning hatred for the scientific mind.

He fell down, weeping like a child, but with the anger and hatred of a man. He curled up in the fetal position and suddenly wanted to die.

Deep within the catacombs, Lindsay worked feverishly. The machines around her were rapidly pivoting and shaking, mixing various chemicals. Lindsay stood at a computer typing faster than humanly possible. The screen flashed, black, blue, green, then to surveillance equipment.

Various rooms flickered on the fifteen-inch monitor. In the first room viewed a solitary half-naked man stood staring at a mirror, trying to figure out his own reflection. The screen changed to a figure enclosed in a giant test-tube. The figure had no fingers, bus in their place were giant claws. Eighteen inches of bone jutted out from the monstrosity's hand.

Her face formed a wry smile before she again turned to another camera. The view changed to Zane's handiwork within the computer lab that had once displayed graphs on the ultimate Bio-Organic Weapon (also known as B.O.W.). On the ground, the corpse lay motionless with its neck broken in two spots.

Lindsay decided right then and there that this Zane fellow maybe more than she first assumed. At first glance she thought he might be one of the new trainees, or perhaps on of her new assistants. All she knew for sure was that she greatly underestimated her foe.

_Perhaps_ she thought to herself if _maybe I would accelerate the Tyrant's growth, that way I will be able to retrieve the sample data faster_. _I could have this person actually battle the tyrant. As a prize, my other weapon will blow whoever wins away._

She suddenly has a bad feeling, and changed the surveillance equipment back to the library. Just as she feared, Zane was gone. She promptly started to glow with a reddish-orange aura; she was enraged to realize Zane had left the safety of the library. She changed the screen again to the train, then to a cafeteria littered with corpses. The monitor flickered again as the screen changed to the cafeteria-sized room with the containment units.

Lindsay almost typed in a command to change the screen again, but saw the golden glow of fire. She panned the camera to center on the moving blaze and focused in on Zane.

It was apparent that scientist had preformed many operations for quite some time. The walls, layered with a green mold and fungus had begun to sprout what looked like small mushrooms. This place had no concern for the 'patients' or for that matter even their scientists and other employees.

Lindsay squinted at the computer monitor, trying to see Zane's face better. His face streaked with tears, the tears were quickly wiped away. She watched as he stumbled, yet continued. He trudged out of the view of the camera. Lindsay confirmed he was in no danger and turned off the monitor.

Carefully, ever so carefully, Lindsay dislodged the blue vial from its housing and inserted the syringe's needle into the liquid. She pulled back on the metal loops, filling the glass syringe with the mysterious blue liquid. She extracted the hypodermic needle from the vial and turned it upside down, causing the air bubblers to rise. She applied pressure to the loops making the tip of the needle sputter and then finally shot an arch of blue liquid into the air.

She grabbed for the rubber tourniquet that lie on the table. She hastily wrapped it around, and flexed many times, trying to build up he veins. She then pushed the hypodermic needle through her ectoderm, mesoderm, and endoderm, quickly forcing the blue liquid into her veins, making her blood turn violet. Her face contorted with pain, and her eyes as dark as a moonless night.

Her face soon came to resemble that of what it was before. She pulled the hypodermic needle out of her skin, and began to toss it aside, but decided if Zane came to this room and saw the needle wet with blood he may become suspicious, therefore she replaced the cop, and pocketed the syringe.

She walked back over to the computer and typed a quick command, and with that, everything in the room went dark. She sauntered over to the table, picked up a flashlight, turned it on, and ambled out of the room.


	10. The Conclusion to Chronic Fuse

Zane carried the torch through the catacombs of the undead, as he tried to locate himself on the map. He knew he was nearing the part of the map that was torn off, but he knew he had to uncover what had happened here first.

Since the time he entered through the arched doorway, he knew he was in some kind of genetics lab. All kinds of medical devices were scattered on the surgical fields, they also happened have a coated with dried blood.

Zane could tell the age of the lower level, merely by the amount of mold and fungus that had collected on the walls. Truly, he could not see the stonewalls but he knew they were very old; two reasons were: one, the amount of mold that had accumulated over the years, and two, due in part to the cold temperature was the cause of the slower production of the mold and fungi.

Zane now knew that this organization had not only created "zombies" and "hunters," but also other revolting beasts. They had done experiments on humans and had achieved two types of zombies; the first is just a regular, slow moving, unintelligent beast. The other type of zombie was coined "Crimson Head" by Umbrella Inc. This was the same type of zombie Zane and Lindsay had dealt with in the library. The Crimson Heads are faster, stronger, more intelligent, and much more aggressive than the regular zombie.

They had also done genetic testing on other various creatures such as bats, monkeys, rats, even leeches.

Zane is now standing at a fork in the hall, deciding which way to go. He could go right to the exit, but he wanted to know what really happened here. The left passage took him off the map. The map was quite extensive, but the corridor was unlabeled, and the map said it did not exist.

He refolded the map and placed it deep within the confines of his coat and chain maille, and set off down the hall. His boots echoing in the empty corridors as he marched down the hall.

He passed open doors; he glanced in each one for something that may be of use to him; protection was ideal from the strange horrors that lurk in the darkness. He walked down the dark dingy hall passing four identical rooms. The fifth room was different. The was a desk in the back of the room, the kind of desk you would normally see in an executive's office. There was also a fireplace on the west wall. The east wall held pictures, degrees, and other things of that such.

Zane edged into the room, aware that he was not alone. He could hear the heavy breathing of something to his right. A breath that came out in ragged panting breaths, as if it ran a four-minute mile.

He continued to walk further into the room, hopeful that whatever was behind him had not sensed his presence. He walked three more feet before whatever was behind him stirred. Zane turned and went into a fighting stance, ready to defend himself.

"Nice to see you too." Exclaimed a feminine voice. Zane sent the flame nearer to the voice.

"Get that out of my face! That's hot you know!"

"Lindsay? That you?" Asked Zane in a timid voice.

"Duh…Who else would it be? Now get that away from my face!" She batted her hand at the incandescent flame.

"Sorry, I thought you were you know…With your breathing and all."

"That wasn't…"

Just as she was finishing her sentence, a chimera scurried across the ceiling and jumped down, and thrust its long hook-like claws deep within Lindsay's legs. It ripped away much of the tissue spraying blood across its deformed face, and the torso of Zane.

Zane immediately went back into a fighting stance, legs outstretched, ready to block, kick, and punch. The chimera took heed of Zane's fighting stance and tried to slice Zane's legs off. Zane jumped high into the air, trying to keep out of reach of the giant hooked claws.

The chimera took another swing at Zane, narrowly missing his groin by mere inches. Zane was being forced back into the wall, and the chimera knew it.

Zane new if he did not act fast, he was going to be finished. He turned and ran hoping that the small monster would follow him. He ran directly to the wall, only instead of running into the wall, he flipped off the wall. The chimera ran head first into the wall, its sharp hooks dug into its own body, killing it instantly.

Zane looked at the chimera to make sure it was dead before he went to Lindsay. Her legs were in bad shape. She lay sprawled out on the ground. Zane examined her legs closely, checking to see if any major veins had been punctured. Thankfully none were.

"There is a room back that way, it contains a first aid kit. Go get it and come back here please." She looked at him with wide pleading eyes.

"Ok, I'll go, but if anything happens, yell for me ok?" He paused, waiting for a response, and when none came, he said it lightly louder "OK?"

She gave him an odd smile, and promised him that she would.

Zane left Lindsay in the room, and jogged in the direction she had pointed. Inside the room, everything was in complete disarray. There was a distinct smell of chemicals in the air, and the air was warm and moist, almost as if someone had been in here moments ago.

Zane rummaged through the numerous cupboards and shelves that lined the room. For the life of he him could not find the first aid kit. He soon realized that there were no lights on in the room, and moved over to the light switch and flicked it on. There was a sudden revving of computer hard drives booting up in the room.

He saw the first aid kit almost immediately, and went to get it when something caught his eye. On the monitor was a picture and a file. The picture was none other than Barry Redfield. He went over to the computer, wanting to know anything and everything about the man who Zane now considered dead.

The picture was almost the exact same as the face Zane had remembered that one fateful day. Zane sat down to read the short file.

ItalicsBarry Redfield

DOB: April 17, 1967

Condition: Changed

Status: hibernation

Location: Corridor D

Barry Redfield born on April 17, 1967 to two Russian parents. Both parents were assassinated and called traitors by Lenin. Barry was hidden by his parents under the floorboards of their house. Barry escaped and joined an underground army who tried to lead a revolt against the U.S.S.R. their attempt failed and all but Barry were executed. While his time in captivity was short spent, he honed his skills as a fighter. One of the Republican Ministers gave him a choice; either rot in prison for the rest of his life, or do the dirty deeds of the U.S.S.R.

He took the dirty deeds bargain and was freed from the prison within the week. For the next ten years he assassinated, killed, and stole his way out of debt from the U.S.S.R. His last mission was with his daughter Lindsay at a school where they assassinated all but a boy named Zane McCormick.

McCormick was taken in by HCF Inc. and mutated with the promise of being the best and the strongest. Procedure and incubation were complete on January 05, 2005. We have codenamed him Tyrant, in respect for those from Umbrella Inc. End Italics I'm not an insider lol

File edited on January 6, 2005.

Zane looked at the clock on the computer, today was January 6, 2005. A chill went down his spine. He took a final glance at the computer and grabbed the first aid kit and ran back to Lindsay.

"What took you so long?"

"I…uh couldn't find the first aid kit…Here lift your leg." Zane quickly opened the kit and placed her foot on a pile of books he grabbed off the desk. "Tell me about the Raccoon City incident."

Lindsay chuckled a little as she thought about where she left off earlier. "Well let's see, I told you how there was a government cover up on how the city exploded, so that means I should start at the after math.

"My father and I got out in the nick of time. We were the lucky ones. After the nuclear explosion Umbrella hired a game company to create a game that would try and blur the line of reality. They called it Resident Evil. The population bought it too, I'm not exactly sure how though." Lindsay winced in pain as Zane poke metal through her skin trying to stitch her wound up. "Eventually Umbrella had been infiltrated by a man named Albert Wesker and he had injected himself with an unknown virus. HCF had no knowledge about his death, but Umbrella did. A woman killed him over the death of her boyfriend, her name was Ada Wong."

"Ok, your first foot is done, could you please put up your second?"

"Sure. Anyways I have hacked into the HCF mainframe and found out almost all of this information. I also bribed Umbrella personal to give me information." Zane, yet again poked the sharp piece of metal through Lindsay's skin, only Lindsay didn't even seem to notice. "And anyways they were monitoring me one time I hacked into their mainframe and they sent for people to come after me and now I'm here."

"Interesting, you said something about your father getting away with you? Is he still alive?"

"Actually no he isn't, Barry, my father, was brought here with me and I have searched for him, and I think they disposed of him already." When she spoke not even a tear came to her eyes. This was quite impressive for two reasons: One, metal was going through her skin, and she had just been stabbed by a little monster, and two, she spoke of her father almost as if she had killed him herself. There was no hatred or remorse in her voice though. Zane was becoming quite distracted by this.

"Ok, your feet are fixed," Zane stood up and reached his hand down. "Take my hand let's see if you can stand." Lindsay gripped his hand harder than she intended to and tears came to Zane's eyes. Lindsay rose slowly to her feet, even though she felt no pain she still had to be careful; she was still human.

"Zane I have something I need to show you. Come with me, it explains so much."

She gripped Zane's hand tighter and pulled him out of the room.

Zane and Lindsay entered a room that was very spacious. In the far corner sat a frozen tube, surrounding the tube were control panels doing everything from regulating the air temperature to regulating the power supply.

Lindsay ran over to one of the control panels and typed in numerous commands. Zane began to get curious about what Lindsay was doing and what was in the giant containment unit.

Zane walked over to the frozen container and peered inside. What he saw shocked him and made him want to run away, screaming. Within the confines of the containment field was the monster of monstrosities. Words cannot truly describe the horror but can create a basic outline. Claws on both hands forged from titanium alloy. The skull, reinforced with the same metal used in the claws, meaning it cannot be shot and killed by conventional means. The muscles alone were the size of Zane's head. The freakish hybrid's cerebral column had been expanded to allow quicker thinking and more brainpower. The thing had almost no neck; the cerebral column had been enlarged so much that if the beast moved it be head it would have to move its entire body. It had no reproductive organs that were visible, and its skin was as pasty as a fresh corpse's. As in earlier versions of the Tyrant, one of its four rhinoceros hearts were visible. The lips were peeled away, and revealed the decaying gums and teeth of the beast.

Zane slowly backed away from the Tyrant as if fast movement would wake the beast. He looked over at Lindsay who was smiling and had a strange twinkle in her eye. She looked up at the Tyrant and said. "You will soon be free, father."

"Lindsay what are you doing?"

"I am releasing my father, my creation." She went back to typing.

"What are you talking about?"

She continued to type. "What's wrong, do I surprise you?"

"Yes. You led me here didn't you. Why?"

"Hmm." Lindsay pauses, she has rehearsed what she is going to say many times before, ever since the day in the school, she knew what she was going to do. "We weren't always like this..." She gestured towards her father and herself. "We created ourselves this way. Some to be our eyes and ears, some to be our muscles and sinew. We were created to be predators, but also to be controlled. You see, Umbrella wanted us as slaves to sell to the highest bidder, I on the other hand knew the true value of life..."

"That's right you knew the value of life."

"…and I still do. Some must be sacrificed for others." She looked up from her typing and looked Zane in the eye.

"Have you not considered the human cost of…of what you are doing?"

"We all pay a price Number Six." Lindsay put extra emphasis on the last two words.

"This is…This is a perversion of every natural law!"

"And what is killing for money and power, but your pathetic attempt to control the world around you?" She turned around and her finger hovered around the enter button. "I am sorry Zane I really am, but what is done is done, and there is no going back." Her finger descended on the enter button and an alarm immediately sounded. "I bid you adieu." And with that she ran towards the sealing metal door, Zane in close pursuit.

The door slammed shut just as Lindsay passed through. Zane pounded on the clear plexi glass. Lindsay on the other side had a crazy smile on her face, how he wished he let the hunter maul her earlier.

Behind Zane the Tyrant was awakening, the ice thawing. "Lindsay do you want another death on your soul?" yelled Zane.

"I don't believe in heaven and hell, too bad for you." She walked away still laughing. A large chunk of ice fell from the side of the stasis unit.

Zane pulled out his pistol with the empty magazine. He bashed the butt of the handgun against the plexi glass to no avail. The plexi glass was bulletproof. Zane franticly looks around the room and sees nothing he can even remotely use as a weapon.

The ice in the stasis tube has now turned to slush and the Tyrant is now moving its extremities freely in the stasis tube. The heart on the outside of the chest pumps, causing the blood rushing throughout the synthetic veins. The Tyrant spots Zane and head buts the ice, cracking it right down the middle, and then forces it's right hand through the ice. The ice is still to thick for the Tyrant to get out, but the ice isn't going to last long. The temperature in the room was rising and the ice was melting faster by the second.

Zane quickly surveyed the ceiling to find out where the hot air was coming, and found it directly above the stasis tank. He knew if he was going to do anything, he was going to have to do it fast. Another minute and the Tyrant would be free from its imprisonment.

Zane hoped his leg was doing better. He ran to the stasis tank and shoved his foot in the ice, trying to get more of a jump. He sprang with all his muscle and just barely grabbed the top of the frozen stasis tank. His palms felt they were on fire; the stasis tank was so cold that it was literally freezing his hands to it. He shoved his right foot into the ice, and then he put his left foot higher.

There was a terrible crash as the Tyrant finally broke through the ice and grabbed Zane's foot. Zane jerked his foot, but the Tyrant's hold was too tight. He had no hope of getting out alive. Therefore, he decided if he was going down, that this beast was going with him.

He let go of the top of the stasis tank and grabbed a sharp chunk of ice. His combined force of the blow and his fall was enough for the ice to penetrate the skin of the Tyrant's hand. It released Zane's foot almost immediately.

Zane scuttled on his back to the door where he calmly waited for the Tyrant to advance. The surprising thing was for all the muscle that had been added to the arms, neck, and chest, the legs had remained completely normal. The added weight of the muscle cause the Tyrant to advance slowly.

When the tyrant reached him, Zane had formulated a plan of attack. The Tyrant reached back with one of its clawed hands, preparing to strike a devastating blow. The Tyrant sends his blow forward, and Zane ducks out of the way. The Tyrants claws titanium claws stick the door. The Tyrant pulls back, bending the door enough for Zane to get through. His plan had worked.

Zane ran on the opposite side of the Tyrant as he was turning, since the Tyrant has a stationary head Zane was in his blind spot.

Zane raced down the hall, back to the fork in the hall and as he ran a KLAXON voice said "Emergency, Please evacuate to the nearest emergency exit. The self-destruct has been activated.

Zane jetted past where he had last looked at the map, and hoped he knew where he was going. He passed a sign on the wall that said corridor E. He ran faster taking no heed to the banging metal behind him as the Tyrant broke free of the room in Corridor D.

He bounded down the hall till he began to see light, and a train up ahead. He slowed down to a quick trot, and rounded the corner and saw Lindsay.

Lindsay looked as if she was going to explode with rage. "My father, what did you do to my father!"

"Fuck off, Bitch." Was all he could muster. He was filled with hate and rage and knew he had to get out of there.

She grabbed him by his collar and lifted him directly off the ground, and walked towards the train tracks, directly in front of Corridor E. She never saw it coming. The Tyrant Barry rammed Lindsay and caused her and her transformed father to fall together, down onto the train tracks.

Zane peered over the protective railing, and saw both were unconscious. He ran to the train, and started it up. He hoped that this was just like a subway train. He pushed the throttle forward, slowly as not to accelerate to fast or to burn the engine out.

The was a loud crunch as they ran over one of the bodies one the tracks, and Zane sat back in the conductor's chair and guided the train to safety.

Zane had been ten miles out and on the open icy land when he heard, saw, and felt the explosion. It would have been a perfect fourth of July if you don't count the zombies and had it been July. He walked off into the rising sun, wondering what tomorrow will bring.


	11. Prelude memories consume

Jake turns on his radio and lies down on his bed. The rumors of the mansion incident consume him.

Memories consume  
Like opening the wound  
I'm picking me apart again  
You all assume   
I'm safe here in my room  
Unless I try to start again

As he lay there, he considers the rumors, rumors –laughs- of zombies that are not dead that kill, of hunters that hunt, of giant snakes, of ill-tempered sharks. –Laughs-

I don't want to be the one  
The battles always choose  
'Cause inside I realize  
That I'm the one confused

Jake considers for a moment if these stories were true, and if they were what it could spell for Raccoon City.

I don't know what's worth fighting for  
Or why I have to scream  
I don't know why I instigate  
And say what I don't mean  
I don't know how I got this way  
I know it's not alright  
So I'm breaking the habit  
I'm breaking the habit  
Tonight

If it was true that these monsters, which his parents had said that could not exist, were indeed true. Everything the world knew could change at the toss of a coin.  
If Umbrella is indeed also true then why would they create such monstrosities? If they had the technology to create men into zombies, then they had the manpower to tap into the brain, and create a virus that has the power of mind control.

Clutching my cure  
I tightly lock the door  
I try to catch my breath again  
I hurt much more  
Than anytime before  
I had no options left again 

Why would Umbrella invest in something that could eventually destroy them? If say Tokyo was bombed with the T-virus, then some of the mutants could find a way to the United States or whomever Umbrella was allied with, And that country would see to it that Umbrella be destroyed.

I don't want to be the one  
The battles always choose  
'Cause inside I realize  
That I'm the one confused

As Murphy once said, "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong." The captives will turn on the creators. 

I don't know what's worth fighting for  
Or why I have to scream  
I don't know why I instigate  
And say what I don't mean  
I don't know how I got this way  
I know it's not alright  
So I'm breaking the habit  
I'm breaking the habit   
Tonight

As Jake contemplates these things, he falls into a deep sleep.

I'll paint it on the walls  
'Cause I'm the one at fault  
I'll never fight again  
And this is how it ends

In the hall ways of hell people scamper in fear and anger as they breathe there last breath. The creations destroy the creators.

I don't know what's worth fighting for  
Or why I have to scream  
I don't know why I instigate  
And say what I don't mean  
I don't know how I got this way  
I know it's not alright  
So I'm breaking the habit  
I'm breaking the habit  
I'm breaking the habit  
Tonight

As Jake fell into his deep sleep the sound of glass shattering reverberated through the house. Jake runs through the house, as he runs to the living room he hears a sound that makes his blood run cold. He heard the crunching of bones. Upon entering the room, he sees a creature that defies god's creation. This creature is hanging from the ceiling on all fours and is killing his mother and father with what looks like a six-foot tongue through Jake's heart. With his dying breath, he remembers what Jill told him. "They are coming, and they will not stop until we are all dead."


End file.
